


More Than We’ll Ever Feel

by Cheloya



Category: Loveless
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-10-27 06:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10803927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheloya/pseuds/Cheloya
Summary: Old, imported. Comfort is dangerous.





	More Than We’ll Ever Feel

Youji sits at the edge of the spring, chin on his knees, hands around the tops of his shins, just below the water line, tail somewhere around his ankles. He isn’t sure; he can’t feel it, and the weightlessness of the water is disorienting. Natsuo must feel it, too – but Natsuo is standing on the bottom, throwing water with short, brisk movements of both arms, fighting with Kio over... something. Youji hadn’t been paying attention, and it probably hadn’t been important, anyway. Kio never said anything important.

The hot springs are practically next door to Seven Voices, but the Zero have never been before. They are only here now because Nagisa-sensei conceded to Youji’s whim to be near Ritsuka while they all recovered from Seimei’s assault. But Ritsuka and Soubi have a private spring; they need tome alone to repair their bond. And so Youji and Natsuo have spent most of their time with Kio, who is recovering, too, although from a different kind of hurt.

He seems fine now, though, laughing and sweeping his arms in great wide arcs, sending walls of water to flood over Natsuo, leaving his thick hair sodden, his ears flattened with the weight of the water more than dislike of it. They are both ahving fun and Youji is glad, almost. But Youji feels heavy, lethargic... warm.

He realises it, and is too sleepy to take much notice. So this is ‘warm’. He could drown in it; the sensation relaxes him completely, his every muscle, his every thought...

_Warm._

And, moments later, hands, mouth, choking. Youji sputters, pukes a stream of slightly saline liquid and lies gasping, black spots before his eyes, still feeling hands, the touches unfamiliar and invasive, and someone is forcing him upright, shaking him, so only the adrenalin prompts him to gape at the feeling of fingers, the feeling of skin.

_Why—?_

Kio is in front of him, calling his name, eyes wild, but it is only when Natsuo hugs him from behind that he realises properly just what is wrong. He can smell Natsuo, he can hear Natsuo’s heartbeat, but he can feel the tremble in Natsuo’s forearms, feel the crushing pressure of those thin limbs, and for a moment, he is dumbfounded.

Then the terror hits.

He thrashes, first pushing away from Kio’s face, then struggling out of Natsuo’s arms. Natsuo is calling to him, shocked, hurt, and Kio echoes Natsuo with words that don’t reach nearly far enough.

“You-chan! _You-chan—_ ” He grabs for Youji’s shoulders again and Youji’s ears flatten, his tail puffs as well as it can, waterlogged. And Kio sees these things, and stops. His hands withdraw. His voice gentles. “You-chan. You fainted in the bath. I want to take you up to the medical wing again and make sure you’re really okay. Hot water worsens bleeding, so if you’ve opened something up just now, you might be in trouble, even if you can’t feel it.”

Youji can still feel the cold night air and the tentative grasp of Natsuo’s hand at his shoulder; he knows he would be able to feel a re-opened wound. But Natsuo’s hand is enough reason not to say any such thing. He nods, slowly, shakily. Kio’s hands stay out.

“C’mon. Kio-san’s going to carry you to the infirmary.” His arm slips behind Youji’s shoulders, still hot from the water. For the first time, Youji feels the shifting tendons in Kio’s wrists and forearms, feels the strain in the man as he lifts Youji into his arms, sliding the other under Youji’s knees. Youji doesn’t move as Kio steps cautiously out of the bathing area, his breathing growing more laboured as they progress. Kio is not fully recovered, either. That is not why Youji keeps perfectly still.

He does not move because he does not want the nauseating slide of skin on skin; he keeps perfectly still because while he can handle the pressure of Kio’s body against his own, even the small movements as Kio manoeuvres him toward the sick bay are enough to make Youji writhe.

He closes his eyes, brings his hands to his face, and presses them there for half a second, before he hovers them above the skin instead. The hot press of his own palms had been suffocating; the vague emanation of his own body heat is tolerable by comparison.

He stays there, concentrating on the space that he has made, until he cannot feel the heat from his hands anymore. Kio’s touch is less obvious; Youji touches his own cheeks tentatively as Kio takes him into the med bay.

He cannot feel his fingers anymore. And as the sensation of Kio’s chin on his hair fades, as he loses the ability to feelk the reverberation of Kio’s voice through Kio’s chest and _hears_ it, only, instead, Youji thinks he should not be so relieved.

He should not be so disappointed.


End file.
